


Midnight in the Wood of Light and Dark

by cheshireArcher



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Het woud der verwachting | In a Dark Wood Wandering - Hella S. Haasse, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
Genre: An attempt to write something spooky, Anachronism city here we come, Crossover, Gen, Medieval Daddy Issues, Necromancy, Okay so this is based on the voodoo in Midnight In the Garden, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireArcher/pseuds/cheshireArcher
Summary: Charles and Dunois have some unfinished business to attend to with their father.





	Midnight in the Wood of Light and Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a crossover only I would think of... my two favorite books I read this summer, In a Dark Wood Wandering and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Here, Charles and Dunois take the place of Jim Williams and John Berendt (Kelso in the movie). 
> 
> I'm sorry about the anachronisms and inaccuracies as to medieval witchcraft. This is just for fun.

"I don't like this idea," Dunois said. His voice was too close to a whine in Charles's opinion.

"I don't like it either," Charles replied, his teeth gritted. "Now be quiet. We don't have much time, don't dawdle." He raised his lantern but it barely helped. This wood was far too dark and scary. He wanted to be home and in bed, not out in the cold risking his life and that of his brother to find and talk to a witch and practice witchcraft. He had no idea why he was even agreeing to do this.

For their father.

"Shouldn't be too far now," he said encouragingly as Dunois caught up with him, panting slightly at the exertion of picking his way through the foliage, saplings, and trying to avoid the gnarled roots that snaked across the forest floor.

"Good," Dunois replied. He grabbed on to his big brother's hand and didn't let go.

After a few more minutes of trekking they reached their destination, the end of the forest. There was an old, abandoned church and overgrown graveyard. A woman was sitting on an overturned tombstone waiting for them. She stood when the boys approached. She didn't look anything like the witches he'd been warned of, she was a rather nice-looking lady in her thirties.

"Good evening, Diana," Charles said. "I'm Charles and this is my brother Dunois."

"I remember you," the witch said. "Louis's children."

"That's why we're here," Charles said, his head going cold at the fact a witch apparently knew his father, who has been accused of witchcraft.

"Right. I'm sorry about the situation with Burgundy," Diana replied. "Take a seat. Tell me everything."

The boys launched into a muddled explanation of the situation-- Louis had been murdered years ago and Burgundy still was causing their family and France in general grief. Charles had just been married into the Armagnac family and he had a horrible feeling war was on the horizon. His mother Valentine had died a year after her husband and while on her death bed she'd made Charles and his brothers swear the traditional oath of vengeance against the man who murdered Louis. That had been three years before and Charles, who was something of a magnet for disaster was no closer to revenge.

"We let our mother down," Charles said, hanging his head. "I-- I'm the oldest. It was my job to fight back but--" He remembered that horrible day soon after his father's brutal murder, when he and Philippe, the second Orléans son, had to accept Burgundy's false contrition in front of the King, who barely understood his brother's murder. Both boys had been crying-- what else could they do?

Charles fought back tears now, noticing that Dunois didn't look like he was going to cry. Why Charles had to be the softer one of the family he'd never know.

"So what do you boys need old Diana for?" The witch asked.

"We want to talk to our father," Dunois said, taking the initiative Charles couldn't seem to grasp. "We decided that it'd be best to let him know we haven't forgotten him and we are still going to get back at Burgundy, that murderous bast--"

"We have some unfinished business, you could say," Charles said over Dunois.

Diana nodded thoughtfully. "Did you bring what I require?"

Charles nodded and raised his rucksack. "Rainwater and nine ducats."

"Good. We don't have much time."

"It's not yet midnight, I think," Dunois said. "We just heard the church ring eleven."

"The first half-hour before midnight is for working good, child," Diana said. "The half-hour after is for working evil."

Charles gulped. "E-evil?" He remembered the accusation leveled at his father that he'd been using black magic to curse the King, his own brother.

"You're here for the good, are you not?"

"Yes," Charles replied.

"Then we have to get to work." Diana gestured for Charles and Dunois to take a seat across from her. Between them was a grave. When Dunois tried to read the inscription, Diana said simply "My husband, God rest him." She looked at the boys. "Now, you want your father to ease off of you. You feel guilty for not avenging him."

Charles nodded. He felt even guiltier in respects to his mother. She had made him swear vengeance and he had let her down. He was a disappointment in every part of his life but maybe he could change that, starting with his father.  
  
The witch had Charles dig a hole in the soft earth of the grave, then drop in one of the ducats and cover it.  
  
"Tell me something about your father," Diana said.  
  
 "He got himself killed," Dunois said.  
  
"I know that. Tell me something before that."  
  
"Dad was good at making enemies," Dunois continued. "Of course Burgundy was the main one, but there were a lot of men who didn't like him because he, well..."  
  
Charles bit his lip. He still had yet to reconcile the attempts to make Louis out to be a good man worth avenging when he knew he wasn't all that perfect.  
  
"He embezzled money from both his duchy and the crown," he said. "Just like everyone else, taking advantage of Uncle Charles-- the King, I mean, when he was sick. And--" He looked at Dunois, who was literal living proof of another of their father's indiscretions.  
  
"It's not working," Diana said. "Tell me something good he did. We want him to be pleased with you."  
  
At the moment, Charles couldn't think of anything, and he hated himself for it.  
  
"What made him happy?"  
  
The boys looked at each other. "The library," Charles said. "He loved his library. He collected everything. Romances, science, philosophy, Bibles, antiphoners, hours, anything. And he had a lot of books made. He made sure we read a lot of them. He used to spend hours reading and organizing them. He had a good eye for detail, I bet he could have illuminated some himself if he tried. And he always expected the best, from bookmakers, and from us kids."  
  
"I felt something," Diana said. "I think he's warming up to this. What else?"  
  
"Well, Dad was really charming," Dunois started. "That is, if you didn't have a reason to hate him. And our uncle liked him, he was his brother of course, and--"  
  
"Go on, dear," Diana said gently.  
  
Dunois wiped a tear from his eye. "Mom loved him."  
  
Charles wrapped his arms around his knees. Why had Valentine still loved him, after all he did? All the affairs, and the bastard child, who she took on as her own son. Maybe she saw something in Louis that Charles didn't. Maybe he loved her, even if he wasn't always a good husband.  
  
"He loved her too," Charles said, his voice catching.  
  
"It's working," Diana said. "He's responding. Quick, we don't have much time. It's almost midnight. Dig another hole and put another coin in. Think about the books! The library!"  
  
Charles did, anxiety rising. He wasn't sure if he was afraid of the fact he shouldn't even be doing this, or that they were running out of time.  
  
"Good, another. Think about him getting you that good tutor. Think hard!" Another ducat.  
  
Charles thought of the times his father came home to Orléans from court in Paris and seemed to be pleased with his sons' progress. At least with Charles' brothers.  
  
"Put another coin in, child. Think, think of another thing. One last."  
  
"Mom," Dunois said. "He loved mom!"  
  
Charles dropped the last coin in and covered it up, ears ringing. He took a deep breath, though he wasn't sure why he was worn out. He watched as Diana sprinkled some kind of powder over the buried coins, poked at the ground, and finally drew a circle around them.  
  
"Now, take the water and pour it on the holes so the good thoughts will take root. He's already heard what you said about wanting to avenge him. He knows now."  
  
Dunois did as the witch instructed.  
  
"Thanks," Charles said. "What shall we pay you?"  
  
"I'm not going to charge you," she said. "This matters to more than just you boys. It will matter to the entire kingdom."  
  
Charles and Dunois looked at each other, neither knowing what to think of that.  
  
"Thank you," Charles said again, rising. He picked up his bag, looking forward to going home, checking in on his baby daughter, and going to bed and forgetting about performing witchcraft and trying to contact his dead father. He hoped it was worth it.

Charles lifted the lantern, searching for a path out of the overgrown graveyard. He stopped and turned around to see Diana packing up her witch's tools. Leaving Dunois at the broken gate, Charles picked his way through the foliage and broken tombstones. He knew he shouldn't do this, he shouldn't even think of it-- there were non-witchcraft ways of dealing with enemies, but he no longer cared.  
  
"You said the half hour after midnight is for working evil, right?"


End file.
